Broken
by The Doctor's Bad Wolf
Summary: Gwindor and Finduilas. A companion piece to Beyond the Scars because so many people asked me to write one. There may be follow up fics, but no promises. Enjoy.


**Title: **Broken

**Author:** Haleth Broadbent

**Summary: **A companion piece to Beyond the Scars" because so many people asked me to write one. There may be follow up fics, but no promises. Enjoy.

**Declaimer: **If I was Tolkien, would I be wasting my time here?

**Rating: **G

**Broken**

Scarcely any time had passed after Gwindor's return when he was restored to his family's rightful place on the council of the king. The seat was given him as a matter of course by King Orodreth, but it was given too soon. Gwindor had collapsed minutes after his return to the hall and as elves rushed to aid the fallen elf, Finduilas had wept brokenly.

The body of the returned elf was so light only one was required to lift him, but others felt it was an honor to aid the noble companion. And they bore him like a king to the healing rooms. In the rush to honor the broken elf, Turin was forgotten, a thing for which he was glad.

In the following weeks Gwindor burned with a fever in sleep and waking. His weak body seemed bent upon destroying itself further even to the gates of death. Some said later he would surely have died if the princess had not suffered with him through every pain. Finduilas never left his side through the nightmares and horrors that plagued him. And when the pain was worst and wreaked his frame with tremors, she held him in her arms and mingled her sympathetic tears with his.

The attending healer said that the poison of Morgoth was burning out of Gwindor's body; and that if he survived it he would be whole in mind and heart if not in body. And yet there was hope for his physical deformity as well. Some of his twisted limbs could be re-broken and reset to the correct angle. The pain would be great, but the result would be a return to some normality in his form.

Finduilas stoutly refused to allow this to be done without his consent. Since Finduilas was his closet kin, if only by betrothal, she was allowed to make the choice. She also refused her father's urgings to leave Gwindor's side. Turin offered to take her place during the night watch, but it was than Gwindor needed her most. When the nightmares of captivity became real to his sleeping mind only her hand could sooth him.

Locked in the fever, Gwindor was always conscious of her presence by his side. Deep in the grip of his illness he could feel her loving spirit near his own. Her gentle words always brought him back to the reality of his freedom. The continual reassurance of her love slowly pulled him passed the darkest hours of his sickness, and finally, early one morning he awoke.

Finduilas was dozing by his side, his hand loosely clasped in her's and her soft breath fluttering against his cheek. The room was illumined with pale sunlight through deep cut windows leading to the free land outside. Gwindor's eyes traveled all around the room from the bottles of medicine and water to the discarded meal trays.

But it was a wonderful to feel the light weight of his darling sleeping gently next to him, her golden hair pulled back but curling in tendrils around her heart shaped face. For this moment of waking he could not have asked a greater treasure. He reached out and smoothed a curl away from where is lay next to her lips, that were pouted in sleep. It was silk and down in his fingers; a foreign softness he had forgotten.

She stirred and yawned, her deep blue eyes fluttering open and looking into his.

"Gwindor," she breathed and relaxed against him again, "You are awake. I was so worried for you."

"I had a pleasant waking," he replied, "A wonderful morning after a long fearful night."

"The doctor said you would be well if the fever broke," she said. She sat up leaving a cool place where she had been, "I will send for some breakfast, you have had nothing but soap and gruel for weeks. You will need to build up your strength."

He sighed and sank back watching her move to the door calling out something to a waiting page. The pain that had burned in him had left him weak and dull and his limbs, twisted as they were, would not move where he wanted them. They were heavy and seemed to belong to someone else entirely.

"Finduilas?" he called.

"Yes, what is it?" she returned, "Is there something I may fetch you?"

"Where is the man who was with me?"

"The human?" her brow winkled, "He is nearby. He wanted to be near you while you were ill. He said you had taken care of him when he was not himself, and he would do the same for you."

"Yes, could you send for him?" Gwindor asked, "I would rather have his aid than that of your healer friends."

"Very well, I will send for him. But I must tell you he has caused a great mystery among us. He won't tell us his name, and is very secret about how you two came to know one another. I must warn you that my father does not yet trust him."

Gwindor smiled, "He is as true a man as I know; please send for him."

"I will be back in a moment," she kissed him lightly and slipped out of the door with a smile.

A few moments passed when a servant entered and laid a neat breakfast on a small table and cleared away the dirty things. He glanced at Gwindor but said nothing and afterward kept his eyes trained downward. Gwindor didn't mind, he was in no mood or strength for idle chatter. The door opened wide and the sturdy, reliable human figure of Turin came through. Behind him, Finduilas hurried in on her tiny feet.

The human came to Gwindor's side at once and kept, "I am glad to see you alive, friend," he said, "They said they didn't think you would survive another week."

Finduilas's mouth dropped open in shock at this blunt statement, but Gwindor was not offended.

"I doubted it myself sometimes," Gwindor admitted, "Some times…"

Finduilas took his hand and moved to the other side of bed. She frowned severely at the human as if the root of Gwindor's illness was his entire fault. Turin frowned back and turned his attention on Gwindor, "If you need anything just say the word friend, and I will be ready to serve you."

"Thank you, Finduilas, please take some time alone. I will be well enough here with Tu..."

"Agarwaen," Turin added hastily, "Yes, my lady, do take some sleep."

Finduilas's lovely face hardened at this commend from the human. With majestic grace she rose and said, "My title is Princess Finduilas, Agarwaen, and I will do what I please. Do not presume to commend me."

With a frosty glare at the human, and one warm glance for Gwindor, she left the room; the door clicking shut behind her. Turin turned to Gwindor and whistled, "A fair temper in a fair face." He said.

"Finduilas is fierce for the ones she loves," Gwindor said amusedly, "You are apparently in ill favor."

"Not only with her, but everyone in this realm. I am followed everywhere I go and the first question I am asked is my name."

"Which you have changed," Gwindor motioned for the human to help him sit up, "I do not think it was right to lie to them, Turin."

Turin's dark face grew closed and determined, "I did not lie. I told them my name is Agarwaen, son of Umarth. That is true if nothing else is."

Gwindor shuddered as his stiff muscles were once again twisted as he moved, "But not the truth, Turin, and you know it."

Turin looped his strong arm around and under Gwindor's shoulders and lifted the elf to his feet, "But you will keep my secret? They only suffer my presence because of you. The king has as much told me so every time I have met him."

"I will not tell," Gwindor agreed through clenched teeth, 'Unless you make an ass of yourself and do something stupid."

Turin gave a short bark of laughter at this and said, "And you know me well enough to know I have done many such things in my life."

"You may make more than amends for them if you will help me and shut up." Gwindor grumbled.

Turin stemmed his chuckles and did whatever Gwindor directed. It shamed the elf to depend on the human for the most basic needs. But he knew he could not have born the shame of asking another of his race to aid him. Shame burned deep where illness had left and Gwindor could not bear any more people to see the marks of his captivity. Turin was as gentle as a warrior could be and sensitive to the hurt that lived deep inside of Gwindor. They shared that pain at least, if nothing else.

Once Gwindor had washed and eaten and Turin talked non-stop about the wonders of Nargothrond, Finduilas returned. She shot a look at the human, and Turin, not being stupid, left the room with a promise to return later.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and said cheerfully, "You look much better. If the human can do nothing else he can certainly work as an aid," she smiled, "But I want to nurse you from now on."

Gwindor smiled bitterly, "You shouldn't have to wait on me hand and foot my love," he swallowed, "You're a princess, not a maid."

She leant forward and laid her head on his shoulder, "I shall be whatever you need Gwindor. I am first your love and than a princess. I have got you back and I do not intend to be put aside by feeble excuses."

Gwindor felt tears gather in his throat at her words. There was truth and sincerity there. Another foreign emotion he had forgotten. It made him feel ill again, but with grief that he could not even meet her in these feelings. He was deficient in his own love for her. But as yet he could not bring himself to reach out to her as he felt she needed.

Gently he pushed her away and said softly, "Love, please. I am broken in more than body. I must have time to heal. I long to hold you close, but I am not whole in my heart yet."

Confusion shone in Finduilas's eyes, "I don't know what…"

"I still need time, Finduilas," he said, "I am ..broken."

"If you are sad Gwindor, I will be your joy. If you are lonely, I will be your companion. If you are tried I will be your strength. If you are broken…"

Finduilas studied his face, scarred and cut, the upper lip twisted by an old wound, the eyes hollow and dark. But still deep within them she found the strength that had not been exhausted there. Her Gwindor was alive yet, but chained. She smoothed his loose hair away from his face and kissed his brow, cheek, chin and than slowly his lips.

He sighed with relief and emotion and tenderly traced her face as they kissed. She pulled away, but leant her brow against his and said, "…Than I will heal you."


End file.
